Farce
by KK1522
Summary: With competency and intelligence thrown out the window...what would happen if CSI and the world of fanfic collided? Ch.3 As the night wears on, the conversations get more ridiculous...but is everything as it really seems? FINISHED
1. The Car Ride

Here's my feeble attempt at humor. Hopefully you'll like it, and hopefully some of you will be able to "pick up" on some of the vague/not so vague references to other works…(Please don't get mad at me) Think TwoP and fanfic. And…go with the flow?

****

Read on! 

"D'you think he knows we're coming?"

"Take a left."

"How could he?"

"'Nother left at the stop sign."

"Well, the man _is_ a genius."

"No he's not Nicky."

He glanced out the window.

"Well—He's pretty damn close."

"Still—doesn't mean he's a psychic."

"True."

"Take a right."

Warrick glanced up at the rear view mirror.

"What right?"

Sara gazed out the back window.

"That right."

"What?"

"The one we just passed."

Warrick gave her a beleaguered look.

"Why didn't you warn me?"

"You said you knew where you were going."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did! You said—and I quote—'I'll drive, I kn'—why didn't you turn there?!"

"Because you were dis—."

"Sara, calm down," Nick tried to reason. "We'll turn around at the next intersection—Stop kicking my seat." He turned around to look at her. 

She froze.

"Sorry," she murmured, leaning back in her seat, casting her eyes downward in what seemed like embarrassment.

"Yea Sar—what's the rush—Grissom will be there regardless," Catherine chimed in, biting her fingernail absently. "It's not like he's expecting anybody."

Sara mumbled something inaudible.

"What?"

"There's no rush," Sara shrugged it off, looking out the side window.

"Uh-huh."

Sara's head whipped around. 

A little more quickly than she would have liked.

She gave her best impassive stare at the older woman.

"I only want to get there—_because_—I want to get out of this car because of the lack of leg room back here; which seems to be due to the person in the front seat—which so happens to be Nick here," she gave a swift kick to the seat in front of her for a gesture.

"Sara." he warned.

"—Leaning back to far," she finished, giving a tight lipped grin.

Catherine smiled.

"I'm sure," she replied slyly.

Sara frowned.

"If you have such a problem with it Sara, get in the back," Nick pointed out—totally missing what Catherine said.

"No—." 

A cellphone rang. Sara didn't move. 

Everyone else reached for their phones.

"It's not me," Nick said looking down at his phone.

"Nor I—."

"Dammit."

Nick and Sara looked over at Catherine. Warrick glanced up, eyeing her through the rear view mirror. She gave a wide eyed look before she opened her phone.

"Willows." She motioned for them to be quiet.

Sara and Nick exchanged looks. Nick raised his eyebrows in amusement. Sara made a face at him.

"I'm great Gil. Why are you calling? It's your night off."

Pause.

"Uh-huh."

Pause.

"O y-yea, Warrick and I are on our way to a um 419 out—out at Henderson," she shifted the cellphone to her other ear. 

Warrick chuckled.

She, in turn, kicked his seat.

"O-o nothing. I think we a hit a squirrel or something."

Sara looked away, trying her best to repress a laugh. 

"No, it sounded to small to be a person. And _yes_ I'm sure."

Sara had almost bitten through her bottom lip trying to hold back the laughter.

Pause.

"Nick? He's a—he's out on a 420 with Brass."

'Solo,' Nick silently mouthed. Catherine glared at him. Sara nudged his seat as a warning.

"Yea—solo."

Nick beamed.

"Yea. He's fine—Sara?" Sara looked over nervously at the sound of her name. "I-I don't know where she is—probably getting her nails done or something."

'What!?' Sara mouthed at her. Nick put his hands over his mouth to restrain a laugh. Warrick seemed to snort. 

At least that's what it sounded like.

"What? No-no I'm fine—it's just traffic is a little heavy and its getting to that time of night where it's hard to see the road—Warrick? He's on his phone—with—Greg." Nick gave Warrick an odd look.

Pause.

"What?"

Pause

"What? Can I call you when we get there? You're breaking up—Gil? You're breaking up—I'll call you when we get—" she turned off her phone. 

"There." She sighed in relief.

"Nice. That was nice," Sara managed through her cackling.

"Yea Cath, that was good," Nick added. "Have ya ever thought about goin' out to Hollywood, cuz man—," He stopped once he saw the look on her face. He cleared his throat.

"Yea—it was good," he finished, looking away.

"Yea," Warrick muttered.

They became quiet for a moment.

"Hey—have we turned around yet?!" Sara broke the silence. Warrick didn't respond.

"_Warrick_!"

"There's been no place to turn around," he responded, sounding more than slightly agitated. Sara sighed angrily.

"Where are we..," she whispered to herself, ignoring the others as they told her to calm down. She peered out the window to get her bearing. 

"O I know—There should be an intersection about a quarter of a mile up the road, with a Dunkin' Donuts, a CVS, a package store, and some kind of gourmet food shop named 'Pegasus'— O and a gas station. We can turn around there. Or get some gas, as it seems Warrick wants to take us on a tour of Las Vegas."

She leaned back in her seat.

All three of them were staring at her.

"What? No McDonald's?" Warrick asked dryly, returning his eyes to the road.

"No—that's at the next intersection. Anyways, how could you eat at that place; it's so disgusting. Did you know that the hamburg—."

"How do you know so much about this neighborhood?" Catherine looked slightly alarmed. Or maybe it was a look of amusement. Sara really couldn't tell.

"Yea Sar—that's a pretty detailed descript—."

"I-I worked a case out here a couple of months ago—and I have a good memory. Is that a crime?" Her palms became sweaty, as she went on the defensive.

Nick just shook his head.

"Depends."

"On what Catherine."

Cath didn't immediately respond. Sara shook her head in annoyance. 

"Yea Cath—on what?" Nick's interest was piqued. 

"O nothing," she answered vaguely, still eyeing Sara.

Nick didn't seem to like that answer.

"There's the intersection! Don't forget to turn around," Sara interrupted, directing Warrick. He, in turn, politely kept his mouth shut.

"Let's see how this thing U-e's," Nick added, with a hint of childlike enthusiasm, totally forgetting what he was just talking about.

"O hell no. I am not pulling a U-e with this vehicle," Warrick said, gripping the steering wheel.

"Aw c'mon man. It can handle it. They don't make 'em like they used to. This baby can corner on a dime." 

Warrick gave him a Look.

"Ok—ok, maybe a half dollar—but still. It can handle it," Nick appealed.

"No-."

"C'mon man-."

"_No_-."

"Warrick man—."

"Warrick; make the damn U-e," Catherine snipped from the backseat.

They became quiet.

"Fine."

* * * * * * * *

"Shhhh."

"Here, hold this."

"How do I lock the doors?"

"Hold this too."

"Press the 'lock' button—I'm not carrying that."

"Here."

"I _know_ that. Where's the damn button?"

"Wait-stop-why do I have to carry everything?"

"SHHH. It's next to the 'unlock' button."

"O quit your whinin' Nicky."

"_Thanks_."

"I'm not whining."

"Yes you are." The four of them froze. 

A figure emerged from the shadows.

"Grissom…heeeey." The four of them eyed him carefully.

"Hey boss—we were just—."

"Gil—."

"Why are you here?" He sounded more confused than angry.

Pause.

Sara finally spoke first.

"Well—we were going to surprise you—and a—,"

"And obviously it worked," Catherine supplied, walking up to the older man. "Surprise."

He just looked at her like she was crazy.

Nick inched closer to Warrick, parcels still in hand.

"Told you he was a genius."

"Shut up."

"But I'm righ—."

"Can you close the door so I can lock it?" Warrick asked exasperated. 

"Um, yea sure man," Nick backed away slowly, closing the door expertly with a swift hip movement.

"Niiice Nicky," Catherine chirped. He grinned.

"Wait til we go dancin' again," he replied mysteriously. She raised her eyebrows.

"Gah—not disco again," Warrick grumbled, picking up a box.

"What's wrong with disco?" Sara asked innocently.

"Yea—from what I remember you had a pretty good time," Catherine replied saucily. 

Warrick didn't say anything.

Catherine smiled, turning to look at Grissom.

"And I know _you_ did," she whispered as she started to walk by him. His lips pursed together, but his face strained to remain emotionless as he shifted his gaze to Sara. She caught his look, and gave a nervous shrug in response. He sighed.

"We—we should go upstairs," she said hoarsely.

"Yea." They stared at each other for a second longer.

"Yea." She started walking forward. He followed her with his eyes as she passed by. Warrick trailed closely behind her.

"Hey Griss." The older man nodded. Warrick continued to walk by him.

"Warrick?"

"Yea?" he asked turning around.

"Just one question—."

"What?"

"What's with the minivan?"

TBC…


	2. It's Not Even 9 Yet

O I have no idea where my mind has gone. Remember…think TwoP ("lines you'll never hear on CSI") and other fics…have fun!

Read on! 

"Niiiiice apartment."

"It's a townhouse."

"Oh."

"Where can I put this?"

"Uh—."

"Here, I'll take it."

"Wow, niiice big screen."

Grissom looked down at Nick.

"It's technically a 'widescreen'."

"Oh."

"Gil?"

"Yes Catherine."

"Where are your wineglasses, they aren't where they used to be."

Nick and Warrick exchanged glances.

"They're under the—."

"No, they're over the dishwasher," Sara interrupted, putting down the small box she was carrying. "The right hand cabinet, middle shelf." She tossed her coat down on the couch next to Warrick.

All four of them looked at her suspiciously.

"_What_?"

"O nothing."

* * * * * * * * *

"Here."

"Thanks."

Grissom remained standing there, but he didn't say anything.

"Gil."

"Catherine."

"Stop hovering."

He looked at her.

"I'm not hovering."

"Yes you are."

"No—."

"Gil."

"_Catherine_—it's my house—."

"_Townhouse_."

"Yea whatev—."

"Anything I can help with?" Sara strolled into the kitchen, opening the fridge nonchalantly. They both looked at her. Grissom glanced at Catherine again, before speaking.

He sighed.
    
    "Actually, Sara—there's something I want to ask you." Sara gave him a quizzical look. Catherine smiled to herself.

"Yea?"

"Yea—how is it that—you—_all of you_—are here?"
    
    Sara slowly closed the refrigerator door, uncapping her water

"It's—a—kinda hard to believe actually—."

"Try me."

"I mean—if I wasn't sitting down when I heard it—who knows what would have happened," she took a sip of her water.

"You missed it Gil, it was great," Catherine chimed in. 

He seemed thoroughly confused. Catherine handed him a glass of wine.

"Here have this first."

"Why?" He took the drink, but didn't drink it.

"Cuz trust me, you're gonna need it. Here in fact—have two," she handed him another one. He put his hand up to decline. She set it down on the counter.

"Cath—what's going o—." 

"Drink." She clanged her glass against his, and took a swig. He remained motionless.

"_Drink_." 

He politely took a sip.

That's when he noticed the two Cheshire Cat grins.

Catherine raised her glass in the air.

"To vacation."

"Vacat—?"

"To a long vacation!"

"Long vac—?" His eyes danced wildly between the two.

Sara and Catherine looked at each other with devilish smiles. They both raised their drinks.

"To a month off!"

* * * * * * * * *

"Wine?"

"A whole month."

"I'll get some more glasses."

"Can you grab some napkins too?"

"Don't sound so down about it."

"I'm gone for two days and look what happens."

"O Gil. Don't beat yourself up about it," Cath reassured him. "There's nothing you could have done."

"Actually Cath—he could have."

"_Funny_ Nick. But no—the crime rates' dropped. They don't need us right now." She took a sip of her wine.

"You say that like it makes perfect sense."

She shrugged.

"Who am I to question a month of paid vacation?"

"Napkin?" Grissom looked up at Sara, then back at Catherine

"This is lunacy—."

"But a month off! Think of it Gil—a month to do whatever you want—and you'd still get paid for it!" She downed the rest of her drink. "I can finally spend some time with Linds, and you—can—do something—."

"Yea—and Sara can finally learn how to relax," Nick chimed in.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Sara said menacingly as she sat down next to Grissom.

"Ok, ok—," Grissom sighed. "Even though it's not making any sense whatsoever—say I go along with this whole—cockamamie story—."

"Good word," Sara joked quietly. Grissom looked at her.

"Thanks. But—say I go along with this 'story'—that doesn't explain what all of you are doing here on your night off," he paused. "And why the hell you're driving a minivan."

"What's wrong with a minivan?" Catherine asked, pouring herself more wine. "They pull great U-e's" she said mischievously in the direction of Warrick. 

"That they do. That they do," Warrick said quietly, with an amused look on his face.

"Since a—we don't have to work for a month, they took the Tahoes back, and gave us the vans," Nick supplied.

"Why?"

Nick shrugged.

"Cheaper maybe? And maybe see if we'll like 'em better."

"I know I won't," Sara said absentmindedly, while pulling some fuzz off of her shirt. "They're such—teenybopper mobiles."

"Teenybopper mobiles?" Grissom seemed confused by that statement. 

"Yea—and there's no room."

"No room?"

"Yes there was."

"You weren't sitting in the back Warrick."

"True—."

"There was no room to stretch or anything. It was such a cramped feeling."

"Space _is_ good," Grissom said with a secret smile on his face. 

"Yes. Yes it is." Sara took another sip of wine, as so to hide her own smile.

"What—why would you need to stretch out in the Tahoe?" Catherine interrupted. Grissom froze. Meanwhile Sara tried not to choke on her drink.

"Suppose something happens, that causes one of you to feel faint," Grissom improvised. "Are you ok?" he asked Sara gently. She nodded.

"What? When has that ever happened?" Nick jumped in.

"Well—I'm just saying that it's—."

"A viable reason. You never know," Sara supplied, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"Riiiiight. And I'm really a blonde." Catherine said sarcastically. 

"You're not?"

"No. Of course not. Now what's really going on here?"

The rest of them seemed confused. Her non-blonde statement seemed to have thrown them off the track.

"Going on where?"

"O don't play coy with me Ms. Sidle. I've been an investigator for ten years—."

"I thought fifteen."

"What?"

"I thought you said you've been a CSI for fifteen years," Warrick said, slightly confused.

"No—ten years.'

"But you said—."

"_Ten,_ Warrick. I think I know how long I've been working—."

"Actually I thought it was fifteen too," Nick said taking his eyes off Grissom and Sara. 

Catherine looked at everybody.

"Ten—fifteen—it doesn't matter!" She put her glass down on the coffee table. "Look at this. They're trying to distract us!"

"What?!"

"Cath—how much have you had to drink? It's not even 9 yet—."

"O shuddup Nicky. You haven't seen me drunk—." 

"_Catherine_."

"What." 

"Maybe y-you should switch to water," Grissom said cautiously. 

"What?! No—I'm not drunk. Jesus you're doing it again!" The four looked at each other, each one as confused as the next.

"Doing what exactly?"

"Doing that—avoiding the subject. You do it all the time!"

"Cath—even though you're right—you're not making any sense," Nick said gently. 

"No. I'm gonna get an answer outta him this time whether he likes it or not!"

"Cath—."

"No Warrick, he's not going to get away this time," her eyes narrowed. "And neither is she." 

Nick and Warrick looked at Sara, whose mouth was open in surprise.

"Me? I haven't done anythin—."

"Do you know you blush when you lie?" Catherine gave her an evil grin.

"Wh—th-that's the—um—alcohol. It a o-opens up the blood vessels causing—."

"You know she's right," Nick said squinting. "You weren't so red a minute ago."

"Th-then it's just taken eff—."

"O Sara. Give it up." 

Sara just looked at her.

"Give what up?"

Catherine gave a heavy sigh.

"How long have you two been together?"

Stunned silence.

"Who—."

"You and Grissom." 

Sara and Grissom looked at eachother.

"Well—um—how long has it been?" she asked. "Two—three—four—four months on the fifteenth," Sara said, with suprising confidence. Catherine wasn't expecting that. Grissom, meanwhile remained quiet.

"Ah HA! I knew there was something going on!" Catherine deduced, her drink now back in her hand. The four looked at her.

"Dude—Cath. You didn't know?" Nick asked. Catherine looked at him, confused.

"Didn't know—you already knew?!"

"Well, yea. I thought everybody knew—."

"I knew," Warrick chimed in, leaning back into the couch.

"What the—how—who—."

"We thought you knew."

"Yea, we thought that you knew, that we knew, that they knew, that we knew."

It took her a moment to figure out what Nick meant by that statement.

"Looks like you were the last to know—."

"Astute observation Gil," she glared at him. "When was I gonna find out?"

He shrugged.

"All you had to do was ask." She gave him a Look.

"You won't even give me the time of day—."

"My watch is broken." Her jaw dropped.

"This is cra—."

"I thought it was obvious," Nick interjected. "They were always in each other's personal space and stuff. All those smiles, how could you not notice?"

"Yea—an investigator of 'ten years' such as yourself should have figured it out," Warrick teased, trying to lighten the mood. Catherine remained quiet, to stunned to speak.

"Look, Catherine, if it makes you feel any better—I can tell you something that they don't know," Sara offered. 

The four looked at her. She looked at Grissom. 

"We're gonna have to tell them sooner of later," she said quietly. He pursed his lips together, as if he was thinking.

"Tell us what?" Nick asked, thoroughly interested.

"Should I?" she asked quietly. The older man shrugged.

"Tell us what Sara?"

She looked at the group. Her eyes dancing like wildfire as a smile spread across her face.

After a moment of silence, she spoke.

"We're also married."

TBC….


	3. O Jeez

A/N: I'm sorry!  I finally have an update.  Thanks for waiting for me…I'm a little slow sometimes.  Well… if you've been reading so far…you know what the fic is about…and that it doesn't take itself seriously…hopefully I'm still within the realms of their characters…and hopefully you, the reader, will like it.  O—and me my dumb self didn't plan ahead very well…the times (as in # of months) aren't going to match up…but just go with the flow ok?

Read On!!!

* * * * * * *

            _Silence_.

            _For the first time that night, everyone was quiet._

            _(At least for a moment.)___

            "You're _what?!"_

            "You _are?!"_

            "You didn't tell me!!?"

            The three looked at each other.

            "_You_?  Why would they tell you!?"

            "Hey guys—."

            "Cath you didn't even know they were dating."

            "Hey—."

            "Yea—but who told you they were dating?"  

            "I woulda figured it out sooner or lat—."

            "You told Nick, but you didn't tell _me_!?"

            Warrick looked at Catherine.

            "Well—uh—see—uh—what had happened was—."

            "I'll get some more wine," Grissom stood up from the couch.

            Warrick was grateful for the distraction.

            The other three looked at him.

            "Yea," he turned to leave.

            "O how _convenient _."

            Grissom didn't say anything, instead; choosing to leave the room, rather than be confronted by the drunken nonblonde.

            "Cath—be nice."

            The remaining four looked at her cautiously.

            She didn't say anything.

            "Cath?"

            She gave a loud sigh.

            "Cath."

            "Fiiiine Nicky.  I'll be good."

            Nick grinned, pleased with himself.

            Warrick sighed.

            "Just get me some more alcohol."

* * * * * * *

            "What time is it?"

            "Losing track already?"

Catherine made a face.

            "Yea Griss—I don't think you should give her anymore."

            She turned her glare on Nick.

            He smiled.

            She didn't.

            His grin faded.

            Grissom looked at the older woman guardedly.

            She turned and gave him a squinty-eyed look back.

            He raised an eyebrow.

            She scowled.

            He feigned innocence.

            Her eye twitched.

            He blinked.

            Her eye twitched—again.

            Or was that a wink?

            He couldn't tell.

            "Oh just gimme," she took the glass from his hand.

            He remained standing there.

            She took a sip.

            He glanced back at Sara.

            She shrugged.

            He looked back at Catherine.

            She was staring at him with a contemplating look.

            Almost like—

            Almost like a cat looks at a mouse.

            She smiled.

            "So Gil—when did it start?"

            He gave her an odd look.

            "When did what start?"   

            He spoke slowly—carefully.

            She took another long sip.

            "Cath?"

            "Mmm.  Good stuff."

            "Catherine."

            She looked up at him.

            "Maybe I should take that back," he reached forward.

            "What?  No!" She held her glass close to her.  

He raised another eyebrow.

"Go sit down," she shooed him away.

His brow furrowed.

"_Go."_

            "Cath—what's up with you?"

            "She gets like this every time she's drunk."

            "I'm not drunk!"

            "How would you know that?"

            Grissom froze.  He didn't turn around to look at her.

            Warrick and Nick eyed him with a new curiosity.

            He could feel the burn on the back of his neck.

            "Well—uh—um—."

            "Re-remember the Christmas party?"

            Sara looked at Nick.

            "Yea?"

            "_Remember the Christmas party?"_

            She thought for a moment.  Then a smile slowly spread across her face.

            "Yea—yea I do."

            "Well, there ya go."

            Nick grinned.

            Warrick chuckled.

            Grissom resumed breathing.

            "Christmas party?"  They all looked at Catherine.

            "Don't worry about it."

            "Worry about what?!"

            "It's in the past."

            "Yea—the past."

            "What?!

            "All I can say is—poor Greg."

            Both Nick and Sara found Warrick's statement amusing.  Catherine—did not.  Grissom leaned back on the couch.

            "Where is Greg anyways?"  They all were surprised by his question.  Catherine spoke first.

            "He's at work."  

            Grissom frowned.

            "But I thought you all got 'a month of paid vacation.'"

            "_We did.  He didn't."  She took a sip._

            "Yeah—apparently what he can do for us in ten minutes—takes Days two weeks.  That's why he's so backlogged all the time."  

            Grissom thought about that for a moment.

            "You should look into that."

            "_Right_—another chance to talk with Ecklie."  

            "O—good point."

            Grissom nodded.

            "What about Albert?"

            "Who?"

            "Albert."

            "Who!?"

            "He's still there too.  Days will use him."

            "Who!?"

            Grissom looked over at Nick incredulously. 

            "Doc Robbins."

            Nick seemed confused.

            "I thought his name was David."

            "No that's the coroner."

            "No, I knew that—I thought his name was David too."

            "No, that's the coroner."

            Sara was getting vehement about it.

            Grissom just shook his head.

            "Jeez Nick—how long you been workin' there?"

            "O—like you knew that too."

            Warrick put his hands up.

            "Hey—I _know the people I'm workin' with."_

            Nick frowned.  Then a small smile escaped his lips.  He looked at Warrick.

            "I'm sure you do."

            It took Warrick a minute to figure out what Nick was alluding to.

            He sighed.

            "Don't make me hurt you."

            Nick grinned—but moved over a little bit just in case.

            Grissom looked at Sara for an answer.  She didn't say anything.  

            She only smirked.

            He frowned.

            They became quiet.

"Is today Monday?"

"No—Wednesday."

"Damn."

They all looked at Catherine.

"Why?"

"Just wonderin'.  It's hard to keep track of the days—plus my show's on Monday."

"Your show?"

"Ya—that-that CSI show that's on now—the '#1 new show of the year'—."

"No—no I don't know."

"Why am I not surprised?"

Grissom made a face at her.

"I know what you're talkin' about Cath."

"You do?"

Both Warrick and Grissom seemed amazed.

"Yea—it's a good show—all those gadgets and whatnot."

They all looked at him.

"Plus that blonde girl is kinda cute."

Catherine shook her head.

"Careful Nick—you know there's somethin' goin' on between her and Horatio."

"Who?"

"_Horatio?"_

Nick laughed.

"I think I'd have a chance."

"I dunno Nick—he so wants her—and I think she thinks he's cute in an odd red-haired—pale as death sort of way." 

"What?"

Nick and Catherine both looked at the other three.

"You wouldn't understand."

Grissom raised an eyebrow.

"Apparently not."

            Catherine dismissed his comment with a shake of her head. Which was surprising in and of itself.

            "Hey Cath—did you see the episode with the shark?"

            She nodded while taking a swig.

            "Yea—that one was ok—I like the murdered family one where the dad did it."

            Nick thought about that for a moment.

            "That was good too—what about the bomb one?"

            "When do you people have time to watch TV?!"

            They both looked at Sara.

            "We tape it."

            "Oh."  She rolled her eyes.

            "Yea so did you see last week's—."

            "Hey Cath?"

            "Grissom?"

            "It's Wednesday right?"

            "That's what you tell me."

            "Right—why aren't you home with Lindsay?"

            The four looked at her curiously.

            "Eddie took her out for her birthday.  That bastard."  She took another drink.

            "Oh ok."

            "How old is she?"

            Catherine looked at Sara.

            "She's nine."

            Sara nodded her approval.

            "Good age—."

            "Wait Cath—wasn't she nine—like two months ago?"

            Catherine looked at Nicky.

            "_No Nick.  How much have you had tonite—."_

            "Wait—she was only seven last year—and now she's nine?"

            Warrick was suddenly interested.

            "What?  Guys—I think I know how old my daughter is."

            "But she was seven last year—."

            "And now she's nine?"

            "Wha—guys you're makin' my head hurt."  She leaned her head against the couch cushion.  

            Nick and Warrick became quiet.

            "My daughter is nine.  Yes she was seven last year—_before_ she turned eight.  I think I know what I'm talking about."

            She sounded a little bit angry.

            Nick bit his lip.

            "Sorry Cath."

            "Mmmm."

            Warrick shrugged.

            "Do you want some Tylenol?"  

She gave a surprised look to Sara.  It took her a moment to respond.

"No—water would be fine."

"Ok."  Sara got up from the couch and headed off towards the kitchen.  Grissom watched her go.

"I'm sorry Cath."

"O yea Nicky—you're fine.  So Gil—."

Grissom turned to look at her.  He was wary of her questioning.  The alcohol was taking effect.  He was getting tired—disorientated.  Less shy.

"When did it start?"

He blinked heavily.

"When did what start?"

"You and Sara."

"Me and Sara?"

"Echo?  Do I hear an echo?"

Grissom made a face.

"Yea—you and Sara," Catherine took the water from Sara.  She nodded her thanks.  Sara sat back down next to Grissom.

Grissom looked at Sara.

"Well-uh—."

"Wait—lemme guess."  They all stared at Nick.

"Ok?"

"Ok—it was the truth or dare game wasn't it?"  Sara and Grissom looked at each other.  "I'm right aren't I?!"

"Well-uh—."

"No Nicky—it was the trip to Disney World wasn't it.  When you guys shared a room." 

They both stared at Catherine.

"You guys shared a room?"

They remained quiet.

"I knew there had to be more than just those Mickey Mouse shaped butters that you raved about constantly."

"You shared a room?"

"Well-uh—."

"How'd that case turn out anyways?"

"Um—."

"You shared a room?!"

Sara glared at Nick.

"It was a suite—two bedroom.  And _no_—nothing happened."  

They all became quiet for a moment.

"I can't believe you shared a room."

"_Nick."_

"Sorry."

"Wait—was it the plant?"

"The what?"

Sara stared at Catherine.

"How do you know about that."

Catherine looked at Sara, then at Grissom.

"Oh—uh—G—."

"What plant?!"  They all looked at Nick—and shook their heads.  

"Ya know what I think—."

"Why don't I just tell you."

Warrick leaned back.  

"That could work too."

All three looked at them—anticipating. 

Sara took a deep breath in.

"Well—do you remember that case with the dead hockey player?"

Catherine nodded, but the boys looked lost.

"Well—see—."

"What case?"

Sara bit her lip in frustration.

"The dead hockey player—where the doctor killed him with quinine."

"That's possible?"

Sara rolled her eyes.

"It was a medical condition.  The quinine triggered a fatal response."

Grissom was getting a little irritated.  Sara squeezed his arm.

"Anyways—um—when-when we were at the ice rink for the first time—we uh had some time to ourselves—and a—."

"Ah HA!  I _knew_ you weren't just watching ice melt,"  Catherine smirked. 

Sara blinked rapidly.

            "Wh-no—what?!"

            "Man—how come we didn't hear about this?"  

            "Wh-n—because nothing happened!"

            "Right—you really watched ice melt for two hours."

            "We did."

            "It was a bet."

            Catherine eyed the two cautiously.

            "A bet?"

            Sara nodded.

            "Who won?"

            "I did—of course.  But that's not the poi—."

            "What'd you win?"

            Sara tried to hold back a smile.

            "That's not the point—."

            "C'mon Sar—what'd you win?"

            She glared at Nick again.

            "Do you want me to finish the story or not?"

            They all became quiet.

            "Finally."

            "Jeez—interrupt the girl's storytellin' and reap the whirlwind."

            "What was that?"

            "Nothing."  Catherine hid her face in her water glass as she took a sip.

            Sara stared at her for a moment longer.

            "C'mon Sar—finish."

            She sighed.

            "Ok—see before we started examining the ice—we-we had a few minutes to go over the notes."

            They all stayed quiet this time.

            "And a—um—well we got to talkin' and um—."

            "You know what they say talkin' leads to."

            "_Nick."_

            "Sorry."

            "Well—a—basically—what he said—surprised me."

            *Blink*

            "What'd he say exactly?"  Catherine spoke slowly.  

Grissom was looking down at the ground, rubbing his fist inside his palm.

"Um—well—we're talking about hockey of course—."

"How romantic."

"And then it switched to baseball."

"Even better."

Sara made a face.

"And he said he's been a baseball fan his whole life."  

"Hmm.  The wonders never cease."

Grissom rolled his eyes at Catherine.

Sara continued on, wringing her hands nervously.

"And I said he must like it because of all the stats—but he said it was because it was a beautiful game—"

"Personally I think it's a little slow for my tastes—but whatever floats your boat Gil."  Grissom frowned at Catherine.

            "Cath—shhhh.  I wanna hear this."  The boys were listening intently.  She frowned at them.  They ignored her.

            Sara took another breath.

            "And so I was like, 'since when were you interested in beauty?'"

            She paused.

            "And?"

            "Well um—he—he answered with—a— 'since I met you.'"

            *Silence*

            "Well—."

            "Well—what the fuck does that mean?!"

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"Hmmmmmm.

Grissom rolled over on his side and looked at the clock on the nightstand.  He blinked a couple of times before the numbers came into focus.

1:37 P.M.

He sighed.  He had plenty of time to kill before he had to do anything.  

He rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand, trying to rub the sleep away.  

He yawned.

The room was quiet.

He felt the bed move.  The figure next to him was stirring.  

He reached over and picked up his glasses from the nightstand and put them on—the world became slightly clearer.  His eyes still felt grainy.

"Sara?"

"Mmmm."  She rolled over.

"Hey."

"Hey," she drawled, her eyelids half open.  "How are you?"  She blinked several times.

He smiled.

"I'm good," he said quietly, tracing the outline of her face with his fingers.  She smiled.

"Mm that's good."  She yawned.  "How'd you sleep?"  

"Good—considering."  She smiled.

He looked at her curiously.

"What?"

"So we're married huh?"

She grinned.  He shook his head.

"Yea well—just to see the looks on their faces when I said that was priceless."

He chuckled.

"That it was."

"Did you see Cath?  I thought her jaw was gonna hit the floor."

"Hmm yeah."  He brushed her hair away from her face.

"I just wonder how we're going to tell them we're not."

She looked up at him—she couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"What?"

"Hmm nothing—do you think they're gone?"

They both looked at the bedroom door.

"I don't know."

They looked at each other.

"We should get up."

"Yea."

They didn't move.

"We should—."

"Yea."

They both turned outwards and tossed their feet over the side of the bed.  Grissom stretched.

"Do you smell that?"

"Smell what?" He put on a pair of socks.

"I don't know.  It smells like—."

Just then the bedroom door opened.

Catherine stood in the doorway.

Bowl and whisk in hand.

She grinned.

"Mornin' guys—who's up for some pancakes?"

~FIN~

ahhh that was fun.  Took me long enough to update…and I'm sorry.  Hopefully it was worthwhile…and if not…constructive critiscm helps…Peace.


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